


A Valentino just for you

by Santillatron



Series: Just what do a retired Angel and Demon do with their time anyway? [4]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale is Very Not Amused, Crowley drops a G-Bomb, Fluff, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M, Pranks and Practical Jokes, Unexpected Fluff, valentines day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-22 11:01:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22714993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Santillatron/pseuds/Santillatron
Summary: Crowley's finally got it. The perfect revenge prank, and it won't go wrong this time. And just in time for Valentine's Day too.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Just what do a retired Angel and Demon do with their time anyway? [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1526987
Comments: 13
Kudos: 87
Collections: Week 23: Prank War





	A Valentino just for you

Crowley was a bundle of nervous energy is too-tight trousers and Valentino sunglasses. He’d stumbled upon an idea, and he was sure it would work this time. He’d been impatiently waiting all day for Aziraphale to close up and for it to get dark. He approached the bookshop, lips quivering with the effort of not letting his glee show too much. He needed to be casual, suave, debonair even. He could do this. He could-

“Angel!” He very nearly sang as the bookshop doors opened in front of him. He flowed in, the picture of sophisticated grace, and leaned nonchalantly against a pillar. Casual, right. Nothing out of the ordinary here. 

Aziraphale looked up at him from behind his desk, suspicion radiating like rays of holy light. 

“What are you up to you wily old serpent?” He asked immediately.

“ME? Up to something? Since when am I ever ‘up to something’?” Crowley drawled. His mouth twitched as the grin fought to break free. 

“Since when you are ever not up to something?” Aziraphale countered. “I know that look. You are exceptionally pleased with yourself and trying to hide it. I just hope whatever little scheme you’ve concocted this time doesn’t end up with anyone getting hurt. Again.”

“Weeeeeeell maybe just a little scheme. But I promise you’ll like this one.” Crowley flicked an arm up lazily from where his elbow rested on his protruding hip, and a chunky gold envelope appeared in his slender fingers. The way Aziraphale’s eyebrow raised was enough to say he’d got it right so far. He stood, lazily weaving the envelope through the air, watching the angel fight with his own curiosity. 

“And what’s that then?” Aziraphale asked finally. 

Swallowing his nerves, Crowley rolled his body up from the pillar and sauntered over to the desk, gently placing the envelope down on the counter. 

“For you. Happy Valentine’s day Angel.” He said softly, before retreating back to his column. 

Crowley could mark the very moment where Aziraphale’s face shifted from suspicious to smitten, and the adoring look he was receiving was only going to make the next few moments even sweeter (and the moments after that too). The angel had gone all soft focus and misty eyed and Crowley was trying so hard not to laugh he was gently vibrating. The suspense was threatening to discorporate him. 

Aziraphale shot him one more ‘to the world’ look (as Crowley would forever think of it as) and turned the envelope over to open it. 

Crowley held his breath.

The world held its breath too, although it wasn't sure why.

Aziraphale pulled out the card with a cliché fat, naked cherub baby on the front, rolled his eyes affectionately and opened it. 

And there was a very sudden, very localised explosion of sparkling pink glitter that plastered itself all over the angel and his immediate surroundings.

Crowley freed the mirth that had been bubbling under the surface ever since he thought this one up and the force of it nearly knocked him off his column. He was laughing so hard he nearly missed the moment where Aziraphale’s surprised expression morphed to rapidly contemplating a smiting. 

“I might have known it was too good to be true.” He said with a well-practised sigh. 

“Well yeah, Demon remember, not known for being good, or truthful.” Crowley gasped out between giggles.

“But just look at this mess! They use this stuff as evidence in court you know, it’s that hard to get rid of! I shall never get it out of my hair!” Aziraphale lamented. 

Crowley managed to calm down from his laughter. “Oh all right, let me see what I can do.” He said. “Close your eyes.” He instructed. 

“…Why...” Aziraphale asked.

“Tcha, no trust, is there!” Crowley jibed, which earned him a Look. Albeit one currently coming from a face that looked like it was have a full-on disco blush. 

“Maybe I’ll leave it on then. Suits you.” He said more gently. This got the same Look, but in bold this time. With the promise of underlining it in the near future if this wasn’t Sorted Out Right This Moment, If You Don't Mind. 

“Alright, alright.” Crowley relented. “Come stand in the middle here so I can see you.” He said. Aziraphale walked round the desk and into the centre of the shop, under the huge, domed skylight, trailing glitter behind him like a very camp comet. Crowley snorted out a laugh again at the spectacle of Aziraphale having a sense of humour failure under all that glorious, rosy, sparkly glitter. Phase one couldn’t have gone any better. 

“Crowley!” Aziraphale admonished. The letter opener on the desk was starting to smoulder a bit. 

“Ok! Ok! Ok!” Crowley said, then sighed before plunging the whole place into darkness with a click. Lights went out, blinds drew down, and even the streetlight outside decided to have a break. Crowley flipped his sunglasses up onto his head and clapped his hands before rubbing them together to warm them up. 

“Now shut your eyes so you don’t get any in them.” He instructed. Aziraphale huffed, but did as he was told. 

Crowley spread his hands and Aziraphale felt all the glitter lift off of his skin, piece by piece. He felt the air swirling around his head as all the tiny fragments gently eased themselves away. He felt the movement of them all around him as the ones that had landed on the desk and floor lifted to join their siblings in their dance. 

“Than-” He began but Crowley shushed him and carried on moving the glitter around. 

“Right.” He said finally. “Open your eyes and don’t move.”

Aziraphale opened his eyes and saw…

Nothing. It was still pitch black. 

“I can’t-” Aziraphale began, utterly bewildered now. 

“Turn your halo on Angel.” Crowley said softly. 

And so Aziraphale concentrated, and a soft, warm glow began to emanate from somewhere behind his head. The fact that it was always behind his head, no matter which side you looked at, was irrelevant. It’s a halo, they don’t care about things like physics and logic. 

Aziraphale gasped softly at the spectacle around him. Crowley had crafted the glitter into a perfect reproduction of the solar system, with Aziraphale in place of the sun. Whole planets rendered in glitter spun around him, distant stars twinkled as they filled the space. There was even a comet merrily blazing across it all. It was breathtakingly beautiful. 

“Oh Crowley, it’s beautiful.” Aziraphale breathed. 

Crowley smirked, and waved his hands gracefully through the air again. The image seemed to zoom out and now Aziraphale was the centre of the galaxy, each sparkling arm spiralling out from his body as it gently twirled around him. Crowley got another Look, but this one was overflowing with admiration and affection this time. He felt himself blushing under the enormity of the love it conveyed. To cover it up he twisted his hands again and the galaxy became a set of colossal wings, a perfect replica in place of Aziraphale’s own. Another flick of Crowley’s wrist and the sparkling motes settled themselves around the angel, replicating his Arthurian armour. Aziraphale let out a delighted little laugh, before Crowley smirked again and suddenly it became a dress that flowed up as if caught on a Marylin-esque up-draught. Aziraphale rolled his eyes at Crowley fondly at that one. Then it was gone again, swirling through the air to become the fat little cherub from the front of the card, who twirled and let fly two sparkling arrows that burst with a shower of rosy sparkles upon the chest of a desperately fond angel and a hopelessly smitten demon. A final fireworks show that left Aziraphale cooing, with his hands over his heart and his expression as soft as his hair, and then Crowley balled all the glitter into one big heart shape in front of the angel before it cascaded back into the envelope in which it came. 

The lights faded back on again, and Aziraphale turned to see a very sheepish looking demon huddled against the pillar. 

“So, um, Happy Valentine’s day, yeah?” Crowley said with a nervous laugh, looking up at Aziraphale hopefully. 

Aziraphale was crying, but the smile plastered on his face let it be known that they were happy tears. He gazed at Crowley with more love than the demon had ever known. 

“You can turn all… _that_ off now you know.” Crowley said gruffly, gesturing to the holy light emanating from Aziraphale’s halo. But the angel just carried on gazing at him, gently glowing. 

“Oh my darling.” He said eventually, his voice even more gooey than his expression. “You wonderful, clever, brilliant, beautiful, wily old thing.”

A final burst of besotted gaze, and Aziraphale strode over to where Crowley was gently melting, scooped him up in his arms and dipped him backwards. Crowley definitely didn’t let out a little squeak (he did), because that wouldn’t be demonic (still did). Then Aziraphale kissed him so thoroughly he wondered if the glitter had escaped again before remembering his eyes were closed. _Right, phase two? Spectacular success.Yep._ He thought. 

Aziraphale swung him back up onto his feet, before propping him up against the pillar. The angel raised up on tiptoe to press a final peck to the end of his nose before stepping away. 

“I can’t wait to see what you come up with next year, darling.” He said lightly as he walked over to the sofa. Crowley could feel the smug smirk from the other side of the bookshop and he couldn’t bring himself to care. _Beautiful bastard,_ he thought.

Despite everything, Aziraphale did find the odd bit of pink glitter still hanging around in the weeks afterwards, because there are some rules of the universe that even demonic miracles can’t overcome. He didn’t mind one bit. 

**Author's Note:**

> Well it started out as just humour, but Crowley managed to get some fluff in there. I don't normally do gratuitous fluff - I shall be picking it out of my teeth for weeks!


End file.
